The Family
by LoveToday15
Summary: My name is Isabella Salvatore. My brothers have nicknamed me Trouble. Most people don't know about me; my brothers would rather keep me a secret than explain something they didn't understand. But when Silas made a target out of me, it's decided: I need protection, and the only one who can offer it to me is big brother, Damon. full summary inside. T for Language
1. Chapter 1

**My name is Isabella Salvatore. Most people don't know about me; my brothers would rather keep me a secret than explain something they didn't understand. But when Silas made a target out of me, it's decided: I need protection, and the only one who can offer it to me is big brother, Damon.**

**Askjasdl**

**Isabella always enjoyed being kept a secret: Damon and Stefan had a long list of enemies and she would be pretty valuable to the people who want to watch Damon and Stefan suffer. Luckily, they didn't enjoy having her around, either, so she was always free to do whatever she wanted. But when Silas kidnaps her for information on how the Salvatore brothers live, it's up to Damon to keep her safe and finally play the role of big brother, but it's more complicated than that. For one thing, Isabella doesn't want anyone to know who she is—which complicates his relationships with, well, everyone. **

**And besides, Mystic Falls has a way of uncovering people's secrets; which is why Isabella avoided it for so long. Will the brothers finally get the real story for what happened to their sister in 1864? Will Silas uncover her secrets before she gets the chance to explain herself?**

* * *

My mother always told me that if you don't prepare for anything, you would always be a coward—because you'd always be afraid.

It's not something she said often, but when she did, she was serious about it—serious enough to never let me repeat it in front of my brothers, and never explain it to me.

But then she died. And then my brothers died… and then my father died. And I realized I was a coward my whole life—because I'd never prepared for the day I'd lose everyone I love.

* * *

"How many people know that you're Isabella Salvatore?"

I was fading in and out—I had been for days. The boy in front of me wore my brother's face. He was also smiling at me in a way that Stefan would never smile at me. I stared hard, wanting to remember this image.

"Maybe, if you saw your brother more often he would smile like this," he answered my thoughts. He'd been answering them for days—but none of the right ones, only ones that didn't matter, like what day it was or where the nearest fast food place was.

"Or maybe if you told him the truth about what you did to him and Damon, he'd forgive you. You wanna know my opinion?" he asked, then went on anyway, "I think he'd kill you if he found out the truth."

He stared, waiting for my reaction. When I stared at him levelly and switched my thoughts off, he started to laugh. This was all a game to him.

I couldn't sleep, but I was losing consciousness, from the lack of blood. I struggled to keep my head up.

"I have no doubt that you could be terrifying when you're at your best," Silas smiled a little more, tilting his head at me as he leaned to catch my eyes. He'd tied me in a chair in some motel or something. "It's disconcerting to see a sister of my shadow self," he said. "You resemble your brothers."

I'd never been told that in my life. I had the same colour hair as Stefan, and the same tanned skin, and Damon's blue eyes, but that was it. Everything else was different.

He straightened to look down at me. "We should almost be done here. Going through your mind took a while, but I think I have everything I need."

I wondered why he couldn't just _ask _me like a normal person. Then I remembered that he was a socially awkward shitbird and therefore, he had to take everything from everyone's minds.

"I'm not a bird," Silas said, sounding confused. I looked up at him and smiled my most unhinged, demonic smile, while he now looked even more confused. "Huh. That's where Damon Salvatore got that smile from."

He turned and left, slamming the door shut behind himself.

* * *

**Damon POV:**

"Your phone is vibrating,"

Elena picked up Damon's phone from the glove box in the car, staring at the screen before Damon slipped it out of her hands.

He hated when people looked at his phone, even when it was the love of his life. Besides, the one thing that was beeping was the one thing he couldn't explain. With a sigh, he took the next exit off the highway. Isabella was nearby, and he had to check on her. It was the one duty he took seriously as a brother.

"Where are we going?" Elena asked. "We have to get to—"

"I know, Stefan, Jeremy, the Mystic Falls gang," Damon interrupted. "I just have to check on something. It'll be less than five minutes."

Elena frowned but didn't comment. Damon wondered how he was going to tell her that she'd have to stay in the car while he checked on his sister—of course, he wouldn't be able to say that, he'd have to say something like, _I had a sudden craving for Mexican people._

Isabella was the exact type of person who should be kept a secret, because a) she was his sister, b) she had a mouth like a gun—her insults were like bullets being fired off; quick and very, very painful, and c) she couldn't be explained without a long ass story and one that neither Stefan nor Damon themselves understood. She was a mystery, and a lie. And she liked living that way.

But she was also reckless and dangerous, which was why Damon made it his responsibility to know where she was at all times, by using a GPS tracker on her phone. It was a wonder she hadn't even found it yet—he'd planted it months ago with the expectation of being shot within a week when she figured it out.

"Why…" Elena began, staring at the building that he pulled up into, "are we at a motel?"

"Please—wait here," Damon looked at her in the eyes. "Give me five minutes."

He took his phone and opened the door to the building, without a glance at the receptionist lady followed the directions toward where her phone was being located.

He knocked on the door first—but when it became evident that she wasn't listening, or that she was ignoring, he called out her name.

"Isabella!" he called out. No response. With a sigh, knowing she would kill him for this, he crumpled the doorhandle in his hand and crushed the lock. The door swung open.

Most people always told the three siblings that they looked alike, but they all knew it was a lie. Damon and Stefan couldn't have been more opposite. Damon looked mature, Stefan had the innocent face, but Isabella was the one with both characteristics somehow. She was tall, almost as much as Damon, with tannish skin like Stefan's and blue eyes like Damon. Looking at her now, tied to a chair, he couldn't even see her face; her long brown hair hung in her face and she was taking laboured breaths.

Damon breathed out a curse and broke off bindings that she should have been strong enough to break—but she was clearly being drugged up on vervain.

"Isabella. Wake up!" he shook her and tried to haul her up, but she just slipped back down in the chair. He slapped her hard on the face. She took in a gasping breath, eyes wide, and kicked back; her now free arm pulled back and then collided hard with his nose. He groaned, feeling his nose break. "Brat!" he growled. "Get up."

She opened her eyes again and glared at him, stumbling to get up. Damon glanced around the room, and somehow he knew Silas was behind this. Isabella was too defensive and too strong for any random vampire to do this to her. There had to be a purpose for this. "We have to get going," he pushed her forward and braced her up with an arm around her waist, realizing what would happen of Silas showed up randomly.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to drag her out without the receptionist realizing, but then he decided he didn't care and there wasn't enough time.

"Stay awake," he hissed at her as he rushed down the stairs with her in tow. It was clumsy and she almost face-planted a few times, but she did break his nose, so he was entitled to payback.

"Stop pushing!" she snapped, irritated.

The worst part was Elena's face when he showed up dragging the unconscious girl. She got out of the car and demanded a hundred questions while he shoved Isabella in the back seat. She curled up immediately, but her blue eyes stayed open and wide, staring up.

"What the hell are you doing?" Elena demanded, crossing her arms.

"Look, Elena," Damon turned and held her shoulders to look in her eyes seriously. "I know you have a lot of questions. But I can't answer any of them because this girl is really important, and so is Stefan right now, so when we find him, I will answer all of your questions. But for now, you have to trust me."

Elena looked at Isabella suspiciously, who now sat up and stared at both of them—glaring. That was Isabella's thing.

"Fine," Elena said, still looking at Isabella. "Just get us to Mystic Falls."

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

The ride back to Mystic Falls was silent. I woke up just as we started a long drive up cliffy mountains.

"Morning, sunshine!" Damon called, grinning at me in the mirror. I gave him the foulest expression I could manage and looked out the window.

"You can tell me if you need to," Damon said eventually, staring at me in the mirror. I knew he was talking about telling him what happened with Silas, but there was no way I was ever opening my mouth about that. So I stared at him until he focused on the road again.

"Tell me what happened to Stefan," I said instead, crossing my arms.

"I will, just—"

"If this is your fault Damon, I will make you pay for it." I warned. "Silas told me he's suffering."

"Well, Stefan doesn't even care that you care," Damon snapped, glaring at me. "So put your emotions away. No one wants to see them."

"_Damon_," Elena said in a surprised and concerned way, staring at him. She clearly didn't know my brother well if she didn't hear these kinds of insults often.

"And I don't care about you or Stefan," I said quietly. "You both think you're the heroes but all you do is sit back and watch people die and get hurt."

"You don't know what you're talking about—"

"I've heard the stories, you bastard," I interrupted. "Mystic Falls has become a circus—a parade for the supernatural. You're both pathetic."

"Is there a reason you're being so damn talkative? You've said more words to me in the past two minutes than you have in a century."

"Actually, it's been a century and a half—"

"Okay, I don't know what's going on, but we need to find Stefan!" Elena yelled. "Stop fighting."

Eventually, we made it to a certain mountain, with the waterfall practically beneath us. Damon told me to stay in the back seat—which was fine, considering I could barely move, and he and Elena went out for about ten minutes before coming back, Elena in near tears and Damon looking annoyed as hell.

"Where is Stefan?" I asked.

Damon stiffened and turned around to look at me.

"Stefan wasn't there. We'll start looking tomorrow."

Damon was already driving down the roads towards his boarding house. As we pulled up, I almost stayed in the car, but Elena got out immediately and let herself into the house. Damon turned around to face me from the driver's seat.

"Get out," he demanded. I crossed my arms and stared at him. "There is no way you're leaving—"

"I'm not your responsibility."

"Yes, you are!" Damon shouted, so angrily that I blinked. "Silas is going to come back after you. And you're my family. So, yes, you are my responsibility, because I got you in this mess."

That made me pause. I wanted to tell him that he was a century and a half too late to save me. I wanted to ask him where the hell he was when I was being beaten and kidnapped in the middle of the night when I was 15. I wanted to scream at him and tell him that he broke my trust a long time ago.

Instead, I opened the car door and he hurried to get out, probably thinking I was making a run for it. I faced him with the car between us. "I'm staying for my own safety. Don't think for a second that I trust you."

He glared at me; his light blue eyes were reflecting the lights on in the house. I wasn't sure if I was imagining the look of pain in his eyes.

"Likewise, little sister."

* * *

I had been to the boarding house very few times, but it wasn't a place I could forget. Huge sofas I wished I could sleep all day on, over-stuffed bookcases and art, everywhere, probably most of it had been stolen from me, and I picked up a few sculptures and saw my initials scrawled on the bottom. I looked up to see Damon walking toward his bedroom, after he handed me the blood bag.

He'd told me to pick a room.

I hadn't really slept in the past 5 days. After showering, I stared at the bed and then started doing jumping jacks on the spot. More workouts—push ups, sit ups, until I collapsed but I wasn't exhausted enough to sleep.

I tugged my hair up out of my face and searched all the rooms—except for Damon's, because with Elena here, I really didn't want to find out what they were doing.

Stefan's room had a punching bag—and I was more grateful to him in that moment than I'd ever been, and I finally got to take out all my energy.

* * *

"_Hurry up!" Damon was hissing at me._

_Behind him, Stefan was struggling to stop laughing as I poured the vial of liquid in the tea cup._

"_What if mother finds out I took her medicine?" I asked, but it was too late anyway._

"_She won't," Damon assured me. "And I'll tell her it was Stefan if she does."_

"_Hey—!" Stefan frowned but Damon shoved him, telling him to be quiet. _

"_Isabella, my dear!" the mistress called from the lounge, "What is taking so long?"_

"_Coming, ma'am!" I shouted back, holding back my giggles. I stirred the sleeping liquid into the tea thoroughly and hurried to carry the tray out to her. Damon hissed again at Stefan to stop laughing._

"_This better work," Stefan said._

"_Trust me," I grinned and he shut the kitchen door behind me._

_The teacher told me to put two spoons of sugar before she allowed to sit down again, then she glanced at my hands as she sipped her tea. "Isabella, why didn't you pour yourself a cup?" she asked, frowning, and took another large sip._

"_I'm fine, ma'am," I said, putting my hands in my lap. I heard a crash in the kitchen and struggled not to look in that direction. Stefan probably broke a glass._

"_Okay, now we shall…" midsentence, the lady coughed and frowned. "We will begin with…"_

"_Is something wrong, ma'am?" I asked innocently. She placed her half empty tea cup on the table and put a hand to her head._

"_I've just gone terribly light-headed, dear…" she stumbled over her words. "I—I think I ought to…"_

_She didn't even finish her sentence. She slumped back against the sofa in a terribly uncomfortable position and her eyes slipped closed. I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter and hurried back to the kitchen, where Damon and Stefan were waiting impatiently._

"_It's done. Hurry," I opened the door and we all ran out through the back door, into the cold night air. They moved faster than me, because they were obviously wearing trousers but I had to wear shoes and a dress. I kicked off the shoes as Damon grabbed the football from the stand by the front door. _

"_Last one to the lake has to clean the floors!" Damon called as we ran._

"_That's not fair!" I shouted back immediately—I was 14, how was I supposed to beat my 20 year old brother and my other brother who was 17?_

"_You're the one who came up with the idea!" Stefan called back._

"_I'm going to pick your wives one day; you should be nice to me!" I yelled. Almost immediately, they slowed down. I grinned and ran faster to keep up._

* * *

"Did you sleep at all?" Damon demanded as I made myself breakfast around the kitchen. I didn't bother answering because we both knew the answer.

"I didn't want to let my guard down," I said finally. I'd discovered that Damon had another guest aside from Elena's permanent residency: Katherine had moved in, too.

Now that she was human, she was sucking all the power off my brother for protection. She was vulnerable now… and I wasn't sure how to take advantage of that yet. All night, I contemplated ways to make her suffer.

"Silas wants her," Damon said. "And that means she's useful. So I'm going to hold on to her."

"I feel like a lucky charm," Katherine said, coming out of the hall. "It's uncanny the way I'm talked abou—" she stopped midsentence as she saw me and her mouth dropped open in shock. She exhaled sharply, eyes wide. "How…"

"Oh, that's right," Damon said conversationally. "You two haven't seen each other in a long time."

"Actually, I made sure I knew where Katherine was at all times," I said seriously with a blank face as I ate stale cereal. I wasn't even sure how old it was, but I didn't really want to find out, either.

"You went back to turn her, didn't you?" Katherine accused, glancing at Damon. "You told me she was gone!"

"I did, didn't I?" Damon shrugged. "You just assumed she was dead."

"Who turned you, Isabella?" she demanded, glaring at me. I felt like she knew already. I could see the confusion and the horror in her eyes. Instead I stared, waiting for her to say it out loud. But she stayed silent, unspoken questions all over her features.

"No one knows," Damon said, mocking. "It's a mystery."

Katherine opened her mouth to talk again but then Elena came out of the rooms, ruffling her hair.

"Morning…" she said cautiously. I glanced at Katherine and Elena at the same time, seeing the differences. There was more than a little difference between them: Elena was still the child. Katherine was older, and it showed in her attitude and her energy. Then there were the differences in style and hair and make-up.

"We're going on a road trip. So hurry up and get in the car," Damon said impatiently.

"What for?" I demanded.

"We have a lead on where Stefan is," Damon said, glancing at Katherine and Elena awkwardly.

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	3. Chapter 3

I had to sit in the back seat with Katherine. She was being annoying and horrible, restless like a two year old while Damon and Elena chatted in the front seat. Abruptly, Katherine moved to the middle of the backseat and leaned forward to talk to Damon and Elena.

"So, you and Stefan have kept Isabella a secret this whole time?" she asked Damon conversationally. Damon didn't reply. Katherine sighed loudly. "I'm not sure if I should play along or if should just tell everyone." No one replied to her and she stayed silent. I was beginning to think that she had some sort of need for attention. "Aren't you at all suspicious, Elena?" Katherine asked, frowning.

"Finding Stefan is the priority now," Elena said, avoiding looking at Katherine.

"Well, I'd be suspicious. After all, Isabella is a beautiful European girl who clearly knows Damon and Stefan very well. What kind of relations have they been having with her?"

Katherine's voice was dripping with innocence. I'd told Damon and Stefan to never tell anyone that I was their sister—or that they even had a sister, and they'd been fine with that, because I wasn't even supposed to be alive.

"What's the matter, Isabella? Kat got your tongue?" she asked slyly.

"Shut up," Damon said, not glancing at her. My silence was what most would call a touchy subject to the Salvatore family.

I turned to face her. She seemed to shrink in on herself at the intensity of my glare, and then she crossed her arms like she was trying to pretend she wasn't afraid for a split second.

"If you say one more word about me, I'm going to rip out your tongue. I'm sure Silas wouldn't mind."

She flinched. Damon practically sang. Elena stared—she'd been doing that a lot.

And Katherine didn't say another word for the rest of the drive.

* * *

"_Damon!" _

_I slammed the door behind me and the windows at the front of the house shook. The maid by the door jumped and her hands shook uncertainly. "Where is he?" I demanded._

"_U-upstairs, miss. In his chambers—"_

_I didn't let her finish—I ran up the stairs and called out his name again. He appeared at his bedroom doors. _

"_What?" he said, looking annoyed._

"_What did you say to Toby?" I demanded. Realization appeared on his face, but he only sighed and leaned against the doorframe. _

"_I told him the truth." _

_I screamed in frustration and shoved him. "Fool! This is the third boy you've lied to about me!"_

_Damon looked like he was trying not to laugh. I shoved him again and he crossed his arms._

"_You don't understand what these boys want, Isabella. They're ruining your reputation."_

"_It's my reputation!" I shouted. "I'll deal with it myself, you obsessive moron! I will tell mother that—" _

"_That you're sneaking off with boys?" Damon interrupted. "That you're meeting them every time you tell mother you're visiting Marie? That I'm protecting you?"_

"_What are you saying to them?" I asked through gritted teeth. Today, Toby told me that he wasn't allowed to see me anymore because he wasn't paying attention to his studies. Yesterday, Anthony told me he wasn't interested in me anymore, and last week, Carlos had completely ignored me in the middle of the town square. _

"_You really want to know?" Damon asked. "I told them you're better than all of them put together. I told them they'd be dealing with me if they ever went out with you again without asking me, Stefan or Father."_

_I let out a groan and pushed my hands through my hair._

"_Why can't you leave me alone? I'm old enough to take care of myself!" _

"_You're 15 years old! You're a child. You don't understand—" _

"_I understand perfectly!" I interrupted. I hated the way he called me a child. "You're bored and trying to get under every aspect of my life. You broke up with your fiancé—"_

"_I'm trying to help you," Damon interrupted._

"_Well, stop it! You always try but you never succeed. That's just your way, Damon. Stop trying and do us all a favour!"_

_I stared at him for a moment longer and wondered if I imagined the pained look in his eyes—but it was impossible for Damon to be hurt by me. I was the youngest, and he was the oldest. He was invincible. For a moment, I felt guilty, and I wished I could take the words back, but I didn't want him thinking he could tell all the boys in town to stay away from me. I wished I could thank him… because I knew he would always save me. _

* * *

I woke sharply, feeling like the world was tilting upside down and I was being pushed off an edge.

"You should be sleeping more," Damon said in that same disappointed way he usually did. For a moment, I saw him in 1864, shining with invincibility and knowing he was going to protect me.

But then I blinked and saw the bar behind him. I saw Katherine asleep next to me and looked at myself, realizing I was a vampire for a reason. And he was a vampire for a reason—and so was Stefan.

He didn't protect us.

"Sure," I croaked out, clearing my throat. "What's going on?"

"Don't wake the dragon," Damon whispered, winking towards Katherine and waiting for me to get out.

"I could have used the sleep," I grumbled as I got out.

"Do you hear yourself? You wanted to sleep beside _Katherine,"_

"_Human _Katherine." I corrected as I stretched. "Besides, how many times have _you _slept beside Katherine?" I asked seriously, but didn't wait for an answer.

"Brat," he snapped at my back.

"Paranoid control freak." I called back.

"Victimized teenage girl with attitudinal problems," he went on. This time I stopped and turned around.

"You could be describing your girlfriend right now," I crossed my arms.

"You think you're a big girl now, don't you?" Damon scoffed.

"I don't know, mom, do I? Maybe I'm just the victimized teenage girl."

"You're just a kid," he said, crossing his arms and mimicking my stance. "Stop getting in my business."

"You're right, actually." I nodded thoughtfully. "I'm just a kid—but I grew up too fast because of your mistakes."

This time it seemed to have an effect on him. He was suddenly in front of me so fast that I jolted back, but he gripped my arms tightly and glared intensely.

"Don't act like this is my entire fault." He whispered tensely. "You're not entirely blameless."

"What do you know?" I demanded, wondering if he actually did know what really happened in 1864. "Anything I did was to protect _us. _You jeopardized our whole family for the sake of puppy love."

He shoved me away from him just in time to see Elena opening the door and waiting for us in the bar. She gave Damon a strange accusing look, and Damon just glared at me as he walked past.

I stood outside, standing guard for the dragon—in other words, Katherine.

"What was that all about?" she asked when she got out of the car, rubbing her eyes. I ignored her and stepped aside as she walked towards the door. "You guys take sibling arguments to a whole other level. Is it this bad with Stefan too?"

She didn't wait for an answer and just walked in. I leaned against the wall. I wondered how they came about this 'lead' for Stefan—but ultimately, I didn't care. It annoyed me how I'd been in trouble countless times before and my brothers had done nothing to help, but the stories I'd heard about their loyalty to each other made me think of how seriously they took family.

I wondered exactly at which point I stopped being part of the family.

I didn't get to wonder long—because Katherine burst through the door and started running for her life without a backward glance. Inside, I heard the sounds of a fight.

Then Elena threw the door open and chased after Katherine—and another woman I hadn't seen before, all running into the forest.

I swung the door in and frowned at Damon.

"Listen. Follow Elena and Katherine and bring them both back—kill that other woman if you have to. There's a cabin behind the building. Meet us there."

He turned and rushed out before I could even say "Hell no."

I considered it for a moment—I honestly did. I also considered taking his car and driving off into the sunset all by my lonesome.

Eventually I decided to follow the twins and the other lady.

I was clearly too late. Elena was on the floor, knocked out, and Katherine was gone. With a sigh, I stared down at Elena, wondering how much trouble I'd be in if I left her and followed Damon.

She had the same beauty I'd been envious of in Katherine when I was 17. I grimaced, thinking of how naïve I was, and bent down to drag her back to the bar.

I didn't bother with making it gentle—in fact, I'm pretty sure half the forest was in her hair and her clothes by the time I made it to the cabin. It felt like it had taken me an hour.

The cabin that didn't really look lived in except for the smoke coming out of the chimney. I pushed open the door and dragged Elena in roughly. Her head was lolling to the side and she hit the ground with a thump, then I looked up to see who was in the cabin.

Both my brothers were unconscious. I kicked Elena's body out of the way and moved toward Stefan, who clearly needed more attention seeing as… he was crying blood. And he was tied to a chair.

"Stefan," I grunted as I pull off the bindings. What was it with Silas and his chair fetishes? "Get up." I slapped him hard, the way Damon had when he was waking me up yesterday. "Stefan!" I snapped.

"He's not… going to be fine for a while…" Damon said groggily from the floor. I sighed and helped him up, but he almost brought me down with him so I left him on his own.

"What happened?" I asked. Damon scanned the room, and saw Elena's mostly forest covered body on the floor.

"I know you don't like her, but you could have made an effort to at least act civilized," he groaned, leaning against the bed.

Elena coughed and then stirred on the floor.

"That requires a lot of effort," I said, trying not to look at her.

"We should get home." Damon stood up fully and gave a whole body shiver like he was checking that his bones were still in place.

"Yeah. Home." I echoed, helping him left Stefan and stumble out the door.

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

When I was 15 and healing from my 'accident' I used to fail at everything.

I'd been bandaged from head to toe, with strange cuts and stitches everywhere that itched madly. I couldn't bend properly and I couldn't move right. I used to try making tea for myself and my brothers—but then I'd end up smashing a tea cup or spilling the sugar. My body wasn't working. My hands shook constantly.

One time, I'd gone on a rampage, tearing through the kitchen like a madwoman, breaking every cup and plate and container I could find in sight, convinced that it was the kitchen's fault for my clumsiness. My brothers had sat in front of my father in the lounge, not intervening because they were afraid; my mother had been trying to get past my father to see if I was alright, but he'd brushed her concerns aside. He'd said, _let her deal with her anger, and then we'll talk to her._

Unfortunately, since that day, I dealt with my anger the same way—by tearing through rooms. Like the bathroom… and then my bedroom. And then half the kitchen, that is, until Damon stepped in and threw me into a wall. Except I wasn't really angry. I just knew I was supposed to be angry. But I didn't feel anything.

"Are you done?" Damon demanded, gritting his teeth as he stepped around a broken plate.

"I'm not sure," I answered. "I'll revisit that in a moment."

I looked up at him. I remembered how he looked afraid, that night I wrecked everything. How guilty he was. How he kept looking at my bandages and how he kept looking in my eyes like he didn't recognize me. He was giving me that same look now.

"I'm sorry, Isabella." He whispered. I wasn't sure what he was apologizing for.

Stefan had woken up and stared at me for longer than he ever had in his life. Not in disappointment, or annoyance, or in anger, but in confusion.

Because he didn't know who I was. His sister. And he didn't know it.

And Damon was apologizing, probably for getting us into this whole mess and for making Stefan run out of town because he had Elena now, and maybe he was regretting letting Stefan be the one to bury Silas. He was just full of regret.

I wanted to accept his apology—but then I saw Elena coming into the room, hesitantly. She was glancing between us and waiting for my response.

Damon's apology was too late, just like he had been when I was 15, and just like now, when he'd ruined Stefan's life.

I pushed him away.

"You're too late," I snapped. "You're always too late—and I never want to trust you again. You've ruined it—everything!"

Damon was wincing with every word. I expected him to lash out—that's what I needed. I needed him to get angry, so that I could get angry. I needed him to insult me and yell at me so that I could insult him without feeling guilty. I wanted him to stop giving me that look like he was still my brother.

"It's all right," Damon was saying, palms up, showing me he wasn't going to harm me. As if he had no blood on his hands. But he had my whole family's blood on his hands—mine, Stefan's, father's.

"It's not all right!" I shouted. "Stop acting like it's fine! Stefan's gone!"

I was desperately trying not to scream. I was taking huge breaths, trying to hold back my panic. I wanted anger—not panic. This was all wrong.

"Isa—"

"Don't!" I shoved him back. "Don't make this okay."

"It's not okay, I know."

"He wasn't supposed to be here! You told me you wouldn't come back to this stupid town." I remembered. The night that they both turned, Damon had told me he would never live in Mystic Falls again. He told me it was cursed.

"I know—I know. Just calm down—"

"What's wrong?"

Stefan was behind Elena in the room. He was staring between Damon and I like we were strangers—because we were.

"You're screwed," I snapped at him, waiting for some sort of reaction.

"That's enough, Isabella!" Damon thundered—using father's voice. I felt his shout like a sonic boom.

"What, I can't insult him?" I demanded.

"No, you can't!" Elena burst out, giving Stefan the look you would usually give to a baby. Or a fragile child. Or a traumatized boy. But Stefan wasn't any of those things.

"He's not a baby, Elena," I said. "He's perfectly capable of handling himself!"

She seemed surprised—I guessed it was because I never talked to her before, but I had always made it clear I didn't like her. I mean, I'd dragged her through a forest. You couldn't get meaner than that.

"Can we have a moment?" Damon asked Stefan and Elena, glancing at them out the corner of his eye. They both turned and walked back out the room without much trouble. "You just need some sleep. We'll deal with this in the morning."

"I don't think you understand," I said through gritted teeth. "I _can't _sleep."

He seemed to get it then. I couldn't ever sleep without being absolutely exhausted—without tiring myself to the point of collapsing.

He put an arm around me and steered me to the sofa behind him. Without thinking, I leaned into him. I needed the comfort. I felt like Stefan had just died—like he was gone completely from the world.

"Try to rest." Damon whispered, letting me lean against him on the sofa.

It was hard to point out which was my last thought, but eventually, I did sleep.

* * *

"So… uh… do we have anything to eat?"

Elena sat across from Stefan, staring at him as he finally spoke up. Stefan frowned at her lack of response—but she was too busy thinking.

This Isabella girl had started to take over Damon's life—and she clearly knew Stefan enough to care about what happened.

It was strange, seeing them together. Damon always managed insult her harshly, but he was intent on keeping her around to protect her.

And that time she said she didn't care about Stefan or Damon—but she was still here, and she still cared.

"Yeah, just give me a minute," Elena answered too late. She stood and walked toward the other lounge. She didn't know how to deal with non-Stefan.

But clearly Damon was out of commission for the night. He was slumped against the sofa, head tipped back lazily as he slept, and Isabella was curled up against his side.

She looked so vulnerable for a moment. Elena wondered exactly how old she was. She looked for a moment like she was just 14 or 15—like a child. Curled up against him like she trusted him. And she'd said earlier she couldn't trust him again…

"Damon," she said out loud, her voice low. Damon—who usually slept like the dead—startled as he woke. He cleared his throat and shifted around, somehow manoeuvring Isabella onto the sofa without waking her as if he'd done it a thousand times. Absently, he brushed her hair back and stretched.

"Where's Stefan?" he asked. "I think I know what we need to do."

"He's in the room…" Elena trailed off. Damon walked passed her, not even noticing her staring.

* * *

"I don't like this idea."

Isabella stared down at the journals stacked with disdain. She was flipping through one from the 1930s, a short period where Stefan seemed to write a lot about Isabella after seeing her in New York for a short time. He had written things like, _I fear that Isabella is taking after Damon, that she is beyond saving. _In one passage, he'd written, _I've seen her surrounded by men and teasing them like it was a game. I wonder if I should stop her, but I'm afraid she will run away as she did in 1912. People talk of her as if she is shameful._

"It's the best way. For once these journals will actually have a purpose," Damon flipped through another one, caught a few words that were too old-fashioned to use today, and set the book down again.

"Damon's right," Elena said from the corner of the lounge. "When Stefan reads his exact thoughts, he'll feel some kind of connection."

"Well, this hasn't exactly happened before, so we don't know what will trigger his memories to come back," Isabella said, glancing at Elena, but barely. Damon could see she was making an effort to act civil, but she seemed to give up half way and swallowed back a lot of words.

Isabella turned the page of the journal she was holding and then actually gaped, eyes wide. "He followed me in New York?" she demanded. "And you let him?"

Damon cleared his throat and crossed his arms, taking the time to try to come up with something to say. Stefan had told Damon about how Isabella was ruining her reputation, and of her… partying tendencies, but Damon had shrugged it off as teenage girl behaviour.

"Well—I mean, he was concerned? He… was just—" Damon stopped. Isabella's face was slowly turning like thunder.

"How could you let him do that?" she said loudly.

"You stalked him for a week when he was the Ripper!" Damon interrupted. He'd seen her many times back then, in many different disguises that he was always laughing at. In that time, when it had been hard to go on living, sometimes seeing her was the only bright spot in his week.

"That's different," she said stormily. "He was killing people. That body count was too high to go unnoticed."

"You were breaking people's hearts. Stef probably felt obligated as a man to help out every other man in danger of having his heart destroyed by a teenage girl. You can't blame him for natural masculine instinct."

"Ooh, you're so manly, Damon. You and Stefan both," she mocked, dropping the book. "Let me feel your biceps. Your muscles are _so _spectacular!"

"They came with hard work," Damon said, playing along. He flexed his arms in the air. "See? I was born with this masculinity, baby."

She was trying to keep her composure. She blinked, her lips twitched, and she flipped her hair back. And then a giggle escaped past her throat and she was full out laughing.

Damon tried hard to remember the last time she smiled—or laughed, even—and found that his memory couldn't even go back that far enough.

* * *

**Please review guys! Reviews give me sooo much motivation to write. I feel like no one is reading this story if I don't know what the readers are thinking**


	5. Chapter 5

"_We'll try again tomorrow,"_

_The maid was fussing, as she always did. She was brushing hay off her dress and wiping sweat from her brow—she wasn't used to going out to the stables. _

_My whole life she'd hated the horses, but now she went out with me every day to the stables. _

_I still couldn't ride my horse._

_My hand was screwed. If I said that out loud in front of my mother, I was sure she would have punished me for the language. Damon would have laughed. Stefan might have blushed and Father would pretend he'd never heard. _

_But mother was dead. Attacked and killed by an animal, they said. Coyotes, according to Damon, and Demons, according to Father._

_I wondered who was more stupid—but the moment we stepped on the porch, I heard Damon's loud voice. _

_The maid paused, then told me to wait outside. She shut the door behind her, but I could still hear the men yelling. _

"_He's useless!" Damon was shouting at my father._

_Mother always stopped Damon from shouting. He'd only just returned from the war recently._

_No one was here to stop him shouting anymore. Father made Damon angrier and Stefan just sat in the background, indifferent. Well, only to an extent._

"_Damon's right," Stefan agreed. "Robert is her age and he has no income. What use is he?" _

"_He will take care of your sister," My father ignored what Stefan said. "And he needs a wife. There's nothing wrong with them being married."_

"_There is!" Damon yelled. "She's not even talking since the attack. She needs help—not a marriage proposal! You're going about this all wrong. This will only make it worse!"_

"_Enough, Damon!" My father's shouts were always louder. "It's my decision. And I've already agreed. Robert's coming to visit her next week. That will give her enough time."_

"_Enough time to what, father?" Damon demanded. "To start talking? To heal? To be able to move an inch without trying not to cry in pain? She needs her family right now—"_

"_She needs her mother!" father interrupted. "And she's gone. I'm doing the next best thing for her. She can start a new life."_

_There was a moment of silence. I wondered if I should go inside and tell them what I needed. But I couldn't. I didn't even know what I needed myself._

"_You're afraid," Stefan said out loud. "You're afraid of her, aren't you?"_

"_Don't be ridiculous—" Father said quickly. _

"_You don't know how to fix this—to fix her, and it's scaring you, isn't it?" Stefan continued. "You're trying to get rid of her. She's just another problem on your list that needs to be fixed."_

_My father didn't seem to know what to say. There was only silence._

_I pushed through the door. The three men looked up, startled, and stared at me up and down. I was wearing a summer dress, loose so it wouldn't tighten the bandages up my arms and around my stomach. But my hair was a wild mess and my arms ached from holding the reins too hard in my injured hands._

"_Isabella," they all seemed to say at the same time. Father cleared his throat, glancing at Damon and Stefan uncertainly. I stared expectantly, waiting for them to talk. _

"_Good day for riding?" Father asked finally. I tried not to show any expression. I wondered if I'd ever be able to ride my horse again._

_Father frowned when I didn't talk—but then, I hadn't spoken in a week. "Isabella, we're having visitors—"_

"_Father." Damon interrupted firmly, taking my arm and steering me away. "Come, Stefan," _

_I didn't look back, but my brothers both helped me up the stairs to my room. Stefan began to talk. "Father is letting a lady stay in our cottage—Katherine Pierce. She's next door. I'm sure she would enjoy your company,"_

_Stefan waited for me to respond. Who would want a half dead broken girl as company?_

_Damon helped me into the bed. He didn't talk to me. I liked that—he knew I wouldn't respond, so he only said what he wanted without needing response. Everyone else had been talking with questions in their words, waiting for some kind of reaction._

_But I had none to give._

* * *

Stefan was reading his journals out loud. Outside, the scenery moved at a slower than usual pace, considering Damon was driving. I was lounging in the back seat, slumped lazily. The music playing from the radio was low, and we were all waiting for Stefan's reaction.

Earlier Damon had to convince Elena that he needed to be with family. I'd managed to dodge her line of sight and get in the car, mainly because I didn't want Damon to explain how I was also part of the family, and also because Damon insisted I come.

Us Salvatores had hit a lot of bumps and obstacles before—but this was the biggest one.

Stefan was currently reading a particular entry about how I'd lured a boy to the shadows, and when Stefan saw him again, he had a bandaged neck and a dazed look in his eyes.

Damon snickered. I tried not to show any reaction, but Stefan turned in the front seat to look at me.

"So, my sister is a… player?" He was trying out the 'sister' word. He'd been saying it with everything.

"Oh, yeah," Damon grinned. "She's a little slut."

"That's not true," I said in monotone.

"_I saw her talking to a blonde girl who had looked very familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place where she was from… she had an elite nature to herself and she was very affectionate toward Isabella, as if they were sisters…" _Stefan paused. "We only have one sister, right?"

"Right," Damon agreed. "Who was the girl, Isabella?" Damon asked. I contemplated telling him I'd been close with Rebekah. Seeing as how he had a fling with her—and Stefan had a fling with her, too, I decided not to.

"Someone you know," I shrugged. "It doesn't matter." I could see Damon wanting to ask a lot more questions, but he kept himself under control. "This is boring, guys. Can we get Stefan to walk down memory lane in an exciting way?"

"There's no memory lane to go down when you have no memories," Stefan said, flipping through the pages of the journal quickly.

"Damon, can you put the music up?" I asked.

"I don't like this song," he said absently.

"Damon's the safe brother, isn't he?" Stefan asked me. He turned around to look at me. "And I'm the fun brother."

The idea was so ridiculous I laughed out loud. I remembered when I had jumped on his back from the trees when we were young so he would fall down to the river, and for the rest of the year he'd been complaining about injuries and pains.

Damon and I had laughed so hard we cried. Damon and I had been the fun ones. Stefan was always the cautious one.

Damon also snickered and shifted gears so fast the car jolted forward. I began to roll down the windows.

"What are you doing?" Stefan asked cautiously.

"Put the volume up!" I shouted over the wind. Damon grinned at me in the overhead mirror and switched up the music, drowning out all sound. I took off my seatbelt and leaned forward.

"Do you trust me?" Damon asked Stefan—but he didn't get to answer. We were going faster and faster until our surroundings were just a blur.

Then Damon stomped on the brake and jerked the steering wheel—and we were suspended in the air. I was screeching laughter, taking huge gulps of air, as the car flipped, twice, three times, and then five times. The windows pathetically fell out of their frames.

In the last moment we were in the air I scrambled out of the windowless frame and landed hard on my back. Then the car crashed, upside down in an amazing show of gleaming black metal, a glittery shower of glass and burned rubber for tires.

The fires started.

Everyone was silent, except for my left over laughter.

"I get it," Stefan said around a groan, sitting up half a foot away from me. "You're the fun brother,"

* * *

"We need to get back," Damon closed off his phone and stuffed it in his pocket. We smelled like we'd been rolling around the road, and also smoke. Stefan was still shaking glass out of his hair.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"Elena. We have someone asking for you at the house."

I frowned as I wondered who it could be. No one would come to the Salvatore Boarding house of all places, if they were looking for me, unless… Klaus.

"We need to torch the car first," I said around a sigh.

Damon clicked his fingers and pointed at me like I had made a big point. "Right. Here," he handed me a lighter and I got to work, bending upside down to get the steering wheel and what was left of the tires.

Stefan was staring between Damon and me with a pinched look, wondering how often we smashed up cars like this. Often enough, because we knew the procedure?

When we got back, I realized who was waiting.

"Isabella," the boy said, frowning as he saw me standing between my brothers.

Elena sat on the couch, looking bored, and half of her glaring at Ryder and the other half of her glaring at me.

"Who the hell are you?" Damon demanded.

Ryder claimed he worked 'with' Klaus, but really, everyone knew that he worked _for _Klaus.

"Ryder," he said, holding out his hand. "You must be Damon—and Stefan."

When it became clear that neither of my brothers were about to shake his hand, he cleared his throat awkwardly and turned to me.

"Uh—it's—"

"Let's talk outside," I interrupted, steering him out the door. I glared at Damon, a warning not to listen in. When we were safely outside with the door planted between us, I heard the scuffling on the other side and threw it open. The door banged against Damon's forehead and rebounded back.

"Go away, Damon!" I yelled.

"Ouch," he groaned, rubbing his head. I slammed the door.

"I can't go far. I'm kind of being hunted down," I said to him.

"Klaus wants you to visit. He's in New Orleans,"

I knew that. Everyone was talking about what was going on—a war between witches and vampires back there.

"Does he know I'm busy?" I asked, though he probably knew but just didn't care.

"He said it's important."

I let out a sigh and paced around the front of the house.

"Tell him to give me a week. And not to tell _anyone_ I'm coming, please."

"Okay, will do," Ryder was nodding already. I turned to leave, but he stopped me. "Wait—can I stay until noon tomorrow?"

I frowned at him. "Ryder—"

"My plane doesn't depart until then."

I let out another sigh. "Fine. Don't say a word to the boys inside—or the girls. Nothing."

* * *

My brothers, like the two very good boys that they were, left at 11, for 'breakfast' but I knew they were probably just going to get drinks because it was some kind of town festival today. I was stuck with Elena, who was waiting outside in the lounge when I finished my shower.

"So what's up with this Graveyard Bell thing?" I asked her as I dried my hair.

"Where did you guys go last night?"

I raised my eyebrows at her subtlety. "Just for a midnight drive—"

"Look," she interrupted me, running a hand through her hair. "I get that you're really close to Stefan and Damon—but I've known them for a while and then you show up and no one is telling me _anything _about who you are or why you're here—do you get why I'm being a little defensive?" she demanded.

I stared at her for a moment and she shifted uncomfortably. I could tell she wasn't used to confrontation. I had a long list of things I wanted to say. I'm family. I'm the sister—I was left behind. I'm their responsibility—but I didn't know what was true and what wasn't, so instead, the worst thing came out.

"You toyed with them for two years."

She opened her mouth and then closed it. I expected her to be shocked—but she looked speechless. That was worse.

When she found her words, she said, "I was foolish. I didn't understand."

"I know," I agreed. "You and Katherine—the only difference is that she knew what she was doing."

"I'm past that now," Elena said, crossing her arms. "It's past—"

"You're lucky Stefan forgot," I interrupted. "Because I don't think he could have lived with himself."

"I don't need advice from you." Elena said firmly. "If you know them so well, why didn't I ever hear about you?"

"You've been through a lot with them," I said, narrowing my eyes. "But they're practically 200 year old vampires. You're not exactly the biggest part of their lives, Elena. These moments are short memories in their lives."

This time she seemed to actually think of what I said, her eyes narrowing and her stance going stiff.

"You act like you hate them… but I can see that you care a lot about them."

I wondered if that was true. I had never told my brothers that I'd… loved them—I didn't even know if I loved them. Or if I love them now. Even when we were human, our shows of affection were usually insults and laughs.

"I'll deal with my feelings and you deal with yours." I finally sighed out and walked past her to my room. "We need to get going. I don't trust them when they're near bars in any time period."

* * *

**Hey guys please review! there are 30 followers and favourites for this story but only 15 reviews and this is the 5th chapter! I really need some feedback please**


	6. Chapter 6

_Silence is all I know._

_Robert sat across from me, smiling and his eyes going over my figure a few more times than he should. I imagine what I would do to him if my hands were working and I could stand without stumbling._

_My brothers and my father all sat in an awkward silence, waiting for something._

"_I heard you enjoy riding the horses," Robert began, swallowing under everyone staring at him. _

_When I shifted, everyone's eyes snapped back to me. I laid my bandaged hand in my lap. He couldn't see the way my ribs were wrapped up, and he couldn't see the foot long scar across my abdomen. _

"_She was a champion on the horses," Damon said sharply, like he was challenging Robert to deny the fact._

"_That is what the whole town is saying." Robert agrees._

_The silence fell again. Father sipped his tea. Finally, Robert stood up._

"_I should go. Father expects me early today," he said. Immediately Stefan and Damon stood to walk him out. "I'll see you at the ball next week, Isabella," he said to me._

_I didn't even look at him. Once he left the room, I stood and left through the back door to the stables._

_Kosmas was named by my mother when he was bought by father—initially, he'd been untameable, and completely wild, driven mad by speed._

_He was still wild, and still driven mad by speed, and in all sorts of ways he was a beast, but he had stayed with us when countless times he could have run off into our forests._

_When I entered the stables, he snorted and stomped his hooves, rubbing his neck against the door in restlessness, aching to be raced down the track._

_But I couldn't ride with my injuries._

_I leaned against the door, tangling my fingers through his mane, and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to forget the pain and the look on Mother's face when I saw her last and the mad look of the boy who attacked me with a knife and disappeared after._

"_He's a beautiful horse."_

_I whirled around at the voice. Katherine Pierce leaned against one of the doors, her hair loose as she stared across at me. I wondered how long she'd been standing there._

_There was something strange in her eyes as she walked toward me. She smiled kindly. "He wants to be taken out. I tried to get near him but he went wild. A horse like that is hard to tame."_

_She was waiting expectantly for words, but when they didn't come, she went on, filling the silence. "You're injured. How much?"_

_Still, I only stared at her. I was cradling my hand against my ribs, leaning back against Kosmas' stall. _

"_There's been talk around the town—they say you haven't been speaking. I understand," she said softly. "If someone doesn't understand your silence, they're not worth your words."_

_She didn't understand. I wasn't talking because I couldn't find the words—I couldn't explain how I felt and how I didn't know what I would do for the rest of my life. I couldn't explain how I'd managed to let the boy who attacked me disappear in front of me. I couldn't explain his blood red eyes and the way he'd looked into my eyes and made me believe he was an animal—but that belief vanished when he did. I couldn't explain how he tore my neck apart with his teeth._

"_I can fix your injuries," Katherine said kindly. "My maid has herbs and medicines that healers could only dream of. I'll have her bring you a concoction,"_

_I didn't answer. I only looked at her, and wondered how she would look with blood red eyes._

* * *

"What kinda name is Honoria Fell?" Stefan demanded loudly, attracting a few stares.

"Shh," Damon said. "You're the one that killed her,"

Stefan seemed to nod as if this made sense, and then we got to the family crypt.

For a moment, I missed out completely on what Damon was saying because I was too busy remembering the last time I was here. When mother was killed by a vampire, father had immediately organized the funeral to be taken place here, instead of the home. Damon and Stefan had to brace me up so that I could stand because I'd been attacked by the same vampire a week earlier, with the help of his fangs and a knife.

When I was here last, I felt like I'd lost everything. Everyone told me I'd get better, and everyone told me that I had a shining future.

Except it only got worse after that.

"If this Ripper gene is biological then we need to minimise human contact," Damon was saying.

"It's definitely biological," I spoke up, clearing my throat and my mind of memories. "No amount of amnesia can get rid of that addiction,"

Damon glared at me, but I was too busy staring at mother's plaque.

_Vaeda Lanae Salvatore_

I remembered Father saying her name with his faint Italian accent, and how he seemed to be the only person who could pronounce it.

Damon cleared his throat and I blinked sharply, hoping the stinging of my eyes was just my imagination.

"Is there anybody here I didn't kill?" Stefan asked. Damon looked away from me.

"We've covered our father, who art in hell," Damon rang the bell.

"Actually, he's six feet under," I snarled.

Damon ignored me. Elena glanced back in surprise at the viciousness of my tone, but Stefan didn't seem surprised. Damon and I had argued enough in the car about how father wasn't the villain—how Damon had just pushed him over the edge.

"Uncle Zach was my bad," Damon went on and rang the bell. "On the bright side, our mother died of consumption." Damon rang the bell a final time.

Stefan seemed confused this time, and he pointed to me, and said, "Wait, I thought she—"

"_Our _mother," Damon said quickly.

Stefan glanced back between us all, putting it together. Technically, I was their half-sister, because after Damon and Stefan's mother died, Father remarried to Vaeda, who had come from Europe, and they had me.

Damon suddenly pulled out his phone and frowned.

"I have to see a man about a witch. Party on without me," he put the bottle down and handed the bell to Elena as he left.

"Wait, Damon!" I ran out after him. He turned, frowning at me. "I'm coming."

"No, stay here," Damon pushed me back into the crypt. "Stay with them."

"What, don't trust your girlfriend and your brother alone?" I asked, baiting him.

Damon let out a sigh, looking conflicted.

"Isabella—"

"I can't be around him this way," I interrupted—the damn stinging was back in my eyes. "I can't look at him."

And it was true. I wanted to be home where I could think about how I'd lost a brother again, and how it wasn't the first time. I was sick of losing my brothers, and I was sick of feeling guilty for it, like it was my fault to begin with.

Damon let out a sigh.

"Come on,"

* * *

Hey guys thanks sooo much for the reviews! They've been really great! :) Really short chapter but I just had to write please review!


	7. Chapter 7

"_She recommends that you drink it immediately," Katherine said to me, standing over my bed as one of the maids changed the dressings over my wounds. She carried a basket filled with flowers and bread, and in her other hand, a vial of murky liquid. _

_I nodded, wincing as I had to stand so that the maid could rewrap my stomach. _

"_We must be sisters, now," Katherine said a little eagerly. "I understand that you don't have sisters, and well… I could use some family now that…"_

_She paused and looked away, and I remembered what Stefan had told me about how Katherine was now an orphan girl. Glancing at her, it seemed so… staged, the way she glanced away and focused hard on the floor. Like it was practised._

_I nodded again._

_She beamed at me, until she caught sight of my stomach, the scar that crossed my abdomen diagonally. The air hissed between her teeth and she glanced away again, this time I noted, she was genuinely startled._

"_Do you mind me asking?" she asked quietly._

_I didn't mind her asking, but I couldn't answer. It didn't entirely matter to me what she thought, cruel as that may seem, but I had been caring for too long about small insignificant things. Now that mother was dead and father was trying to marry me off, what the orphan girl next door thought of me was irrelevant. _

"_Animal attack," the maid said shortly, yanking the bandage so that it ripped as she tied it around my back. "The same animal that killed her mother,"_

_I glared at her, sharp enough that I imagined her to wince, but she didn't glance back at me. _

"_You shouldn't talk so crudely around her," Katherine snapped, eyes sharp on the maid. The maid winced. I studied Katherine's expression, wondering how she got that reaction. Her eyes were fixed on the maid, unwavering, and numbly, the maid nodded, with a frown. "Apologize to her." Katherine ordered._

"_My apologies miss," the maid said numbly, glancing at me with a glazed look in her eyes. _

_Like she'd just been hypnotized._

* * *

"I don't see how you feel like Stefan's gone completely," Damon began as soon as they both got in the car.

Isabella stared straight ahead, wringing her hands in stress. There was the same frown between her eyes that she always had whenever she was losing something—anything, a race with her horse, a game, or a family member. "We'll get Stefan back."

"How can you be so sure? He's just an empty shell," she said quietly. Damon started the car and began to drive back to the house, but slower than usual, trying to pull more words out of his sister.

"We've hit these kinds of bumps before. Stefan has turned off his humanity and we got him back. He befriended a lunatic hybrid and we still got him back. This isn't forever."

Isabella cleared her throat. Damon glanced at her as she crossed her arms defensively.

"This is forever," she corrected. "He will never be the same as he was. And maybe it's better off this way! He doesn't have to watch the girl he loves being with you."

"Do you always complain?" Damon burst out. "I'm sick of you complaining! You're always against everything Stefan and I do no matter what. Get over it!"

"Why don't you get over it?" she yelled, and he flinched at the loudness of her voice. "You could have left Stefan alone and lived your own life! We would never be in this mess if you didn't come to Mystic Falls!"

"Maybe if my sister actually trusted me enough I wouldn't have had to come to Mystic Falls to track down my brother!" he snapped. "Besides, I came to Mystic Falls for Katherine, not Stefan."

"And you got Elena instead—surprise, surprise!"

He'd never really thought of it that way, but it was true. "Doesn't matter," he said. "This is the way it's turned out. If you were so worried about Katherine, you should have found a way to deal with her from the start."

"I did." She said it so quietly he thought he misheard it for a moment.

"What?" He jerked the car to the side of the road in front of the house. "What are you talking about?"

"I dealt with her," she said, turning to him. "I didn't anticipate her never being in the tomb—that was supposed to be the last the world saw of Katherine Pierce."

"Wait—what are you _talking _about? Father was the one who led the attack—"

"Damon, it was never supposed to be between the Founding families and the vampires. Katherine was in Mystic Falls to escape Klaus—doesn't it seem coincidental that she was almost killed again?"

Damon was piecing it together. Katherine being imprisoned—taken in a carriage away to the tomb, where she was supposed to stay forever—and Klaus had been hunting her. He would have heard about Mystic Falls, and he would have come for Katherine.

"You're telling me that the vampires in the tomb—the hunt for the vampires in 1864, Klaus was behind it all?"

She took a deep breath and her face went pale. "Klaus… and me. Both of us."

* * *

"Where are they?"

Stefan burst into my room. I sat up from the bed. I could see a spot of blood on the collar of his shirt.

"What?" I asked.

"The journals. I know there are more of them."

I frowned but stood and walked toward his room. They were in a closet in the locked trunk—Stefan had pretty much documented all of his life.

"Take it," I shoved the trunk toward him.

"Thanks," he said around a grimace, hurrying down the stairs again. By the time I got down, I found him shoving the books into the fire.

"What, you got that sick of yourself?" I asked, frowning.

"Yeah, actually," he said, his back to me. He shoved another three in at once. "I'm sick of reading about the person I was. I don't need to be that person again."

I wasn't sure what to make of that. I hadn't thought of this Stefan as a person—I'd thought of him needing to be fixed. But maybe this was what he needed. A fresh start.

"If you're leaving," I said, taking a deep breath so that I wouldn't sound shaky, "I want you to keep in touch with me."

Stefan stood and turned to me.

"I don't—"

"Please," I interrupted. My eyes were stinging for what felt like the hundredth time today. I hoped he didn't notice the tears running down my cheeks. "I won't expect anything out of you. I just want you to be my brother."

Stefan stared at me for a long moment, and then cautiously, he embraced me. A thousand memories rushed back to me, mostly of when we were young and when my brothers had all of my trust.

But for him, I knew there was nothing.

"Come with me," he offered as he pulled back. I wondered if this was what I'd wanted all along, for just a fresh start with my brothers. And I knew that if I went with Stefan, I'd always remember that Damon was here and he was disappointed. Maybe I just had to take this one step at a time.

"I'll come," I agreed. "If you let me burn your journals."

* * *

I heard Damon and Elena come in as I was packing. They immediately asked Stefan where he'd been and what he was doing, and as I stood in my room, away from it all, I realized how hard it must be to have so many expectations over you when you couldn't reach any of them.

I didn't blame Stefan for leaving. He was right.

"I don't want to live in this house, I don't want my brother's advice," he was saying when I came out, holding my duffel bag behind me. "I don't want to hear how I supported you, Elena. And I definitely don't want to continue this conversation,"

He nodded to me and started walking away.

"Stefan, wait—" Elena began.

"Don't worry, I'm not going on a Ripper binge," he said offhandedly. "Isabella's coming with me, and Caroline said she'll call me every hour to make sure I'm okay," he shrugged. Damon spun around to face me, accusation and disbelief on his face.

"What?" he demanded. "You can't leave. Silas will find you—"

"She'll be fine with me," Stefan said, standing next to me now.

"Isabella—you can't just run off. It's not safe—just stay with us," Damon pleaded. I frowned, glancing between my brothers and wondering how we got in this mess.

"Chances are Silas will come here first. If anything, I'm more unsafe here."

Damon looked like he was at a complete loss for words. For a moment, I saw it from his perspective. His shell of a brother and his sister seemed to be walking out of his life.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I just need this—"

"You're running!" Damon snapped, just like he had in the car. "You told me the truth and now you're running away from it. Why are you such a coward?"

"Not everything is about you, Damon!" I yelled. Stefan put a hand on my elbow.

"I'm gonna wait outside," he said quietly. I nodded absently, glaring at Damon.

"I'm not running away from the truth." I said, crossing my arms defensively. "I only told you what happened because now is the only time I could say it. If I told you ten years ago, you would have _killed _me."

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed. "I wouldn't have _killed—"_

"I watched you threaten to kill Stefan over the past century and a half! You think I believed you wouldn't hurt me too?" I interrupted. "I watched you almost rip out his heart. If I told you I was the reason you lost Katherine, _you would have killed me!" _

He finally seemed to understand. I'd been living in fear for my whole life. Ever since I was attacked, and ever since mother was killed. I couldn't utter a word of the truth to anyone. I rarely saw him like this; eyes wide, stance stiff, completely surprised.

"I'm sorry," he said.

I wasn't sure what I wanted, but I was pretty sure an apology didn't really make the list.

* * *

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